The locks on his parents' door seemed to be upgraded every time he visited. Kinjou fished his key out of his pocket and tapped it against the reader, pressed his thumb to the fingerprint scanner, and entered the secondary passcode when prompted. He understood the reasons for it, but even so, it struck him as a lot of security for what was going to be a short visit. He was passing by on his way back from an errand and decided it was as a good a time as any to return a few things he had borrowed.
"I'm here," he called as he stepped inside, even though he knew such an announcement was redundant. The motion sensor on the doorbell would have alerted Inui to his presence the moment he approached the door.
"Shingo, it's good to see you!" Kaidou's hair was still dripping from a post-workout shower as he caught Kinjou in a quick, only slightly awkward hug.
"It's good to see you too, Father."
Inui emerged from his lab several seconds later, juggling clipboards and notebooks that seemed liable to come crashing down at any second. He looked older these days, and while Kinjou had never associated "frail" with Inui, it was the first word that came to mind looking at him now. It was a jarring reminder his parents weren't as young as they once had been.
"Shingo!" Inui called.
"Dad, it's good to see you too! Thanks for the loan of the cables," Kinjou said holding out the bag he had brought. "They made that data migration so much easier. I don't want to think about how long it would have taken manually."
"Happy to help."
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Kaidou asked. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes. I know you aren't planning on staying long, but I made enough for all of us…"
"I'll take you up on that offer," Kinjou said. "Makishima's been experimenting again. Love him dearly, but I do wonder at his tastes sometimes."
"You and me both," Kaidou muttered to himself.
Dinner was a pleasant enough affair, with decent food and conversation that ranged from the vacation Inui and Kaidou had just returned from to Inui's pet research projects, which he was devoting more and more time to these days, to some of the newest research coming out of joint project between Ishida's lab and Atobe's hospital.
Then, Inui said, "actually, while we're on the topic of medical," and the look he exchanged with Kaidou had Kinjou's heart suddenly hammering in his throat.
"There's something you should probably know," Inui continued. "I've…not been in as good a health as I may have seemed recently."
Kinjou nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop as his mind filled in all of the little signs he'd written off simply as age over the past months.
"About…three years ago, I was diagnosed with a blood cancer. It progresses slowly, and it's treatable, to an extent, but ultimately incurable."
"Dad…"
"It is what it is," Inui said, "and we didn't want you to worry. There's no changing it, so may as well make the most of the time that's left. That's hard to do if people are always hovering over your shoulder asking how you're feeling; better to avoid it altogether. Plus, several research groups, some of Atobe's included, are actively researching new treatment options. Who knows, by the time we've exhausted the treatments that exist now, they may have found a cure."
"So…why now?" Kinjou asked. His voice sounded oddly distant to his ears, and another look exchanged between his parents did nothing to settle his nerves.
"A few months ago, they found another tumor. The good news is it's much easier to treat. They remove the tumor, and there's a 91% chance that will be enough to cure the cancer completely."
"And the catch?" Kinjou asked. Inui wouldn't be sharing if it were truly that easy.
"The cancer affects modified nerve cells. There's no sign the tumor has metastasized, but it's wrapped itself pretty well around one of the nerves here—" Inui tapped his collarbone "—Even with the best surgeon, you're going to have side effects from digging around in the nerves like that. Especially when the preference is to sacrifice more healthy tissue than risk missing any malignant cells. It would be difficult to hide that from you, and if we're sharing that, we figured it was time to share everything."
"Dad…Father…" Kinjou's head spun as he tried to take in all of the sudden announcements. A thousand questions sprung to mind: Why didn't you tell me sooner? When were you planning on finally sharing? How much longer do you have? What happens from here? It was all unexpected and overwhelming, and he didn't know where to start.
Kaidou's hand on his shoulder snapped him out of the spiral.
"Breathe," Kaidou ordered, and Kinjou tried to force the ragged sounds back into something resembling a steady pattern.
TeniPuri/Yowapedal, Kinjou & Inui/Kaidou, T, Terminal Illness
The locks on his parents' door seemed to be upgraded every time he visited. Kinjou fished his key out of his pocket and tapped it against the reader, pressed his thumb to the fingerprint scanner, and entered the secondary passcode when prompted. He understood the reasons for it, but even so, it struck him as a lot of security for what was going to be a short visit. He was passing by on his way back from an errand and decided it was as a good a time as any to return a few things he had borrowed.
"I'm here," he called as he stepped inside, even though he knew such an announcement was redundant. The motion sensor on the doorbell would have alerted Inui to his presence the moment he approached the door.
"Shingo, it's good to see you!" Kaidou's hair was still dripping from a post-workout shower as he caught Kinjou in a quick, only slightly awkward hug.
"It's good to see you too, Father."
Inui emerged from his lab several seconds later, juggling clipboards and notebooks that seemed liable to come crashing down at any second. He looked older these days, and while Kinjou had never associated "frail" with Inui, it was the first word that came to mind looking at him now. It was a jarring reminder his parents weren't as young as they once had been.
"Shingo!" Inui called.
"Dad, it's good to see you too! Thanks for the loan of the cables," Kinjou said holding out the bag he had brought. "They made that data migration so much easier. I don't want to think about how long it would have taken manually."
"Happy to help."
"Can I get you anything to drink?" Kaidou asked. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes. I know you aren't planning on staying long, but I made enough for all of us…"
"I'll take you up on that offer," Kinjou said. "Makishima's been experimenting again. Love him dearly, but I do wonder at his tastes sometimes."
"You and me both," Kaidou muttered to himself.
Dinner was a pleasant enough affair, with decent food and conversation that ranged from the vacation Inui and Kaidou had just returned from to Inui's pet research projects, which he was devoting more and more time to these days, to some of the newest research coming out of joint project between Ishida's lab and Atobe's hospital.
Then, Inui said, "actually, while we're on the topic of medical," and the look he exchanged with Kaidou had Kinjou's heart suddenly hammering in his throat.
"There's something you should probably know," Inui continued. "I've…not been in as good a health as I may have seemed recently."
Kinjou nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop as his mind filled in all of the little signs he'd written off simply as age over the past months.
"About…three years ago, I was diagnosed with a blood cancer. It progresses slowly, and it's treatable, to an extent, but ultimately incurable."
"Dad…"
"It is what it is," Inui said, "and we didn't want you to worry. There's no changing it, so may as well make the most of the time that's left. That's hard to do if people are always hovering over your shoulder asking how you're feeling; better to avoid it altogether. Plus, several research groups, some of Atobe's included, are actively researching new treatment options. Who knows, by the time we've exhausted the treatments that exist now, they may have found a cure."
"So…why now?" Kinjou asked. His voice sounded oddly distant to his ears, and another look exchanged between his parents did nothing to settle his nerves.
"A few months ago, they found another tumor. The good news is it's much easier to treat. They remove the tumor, and there's a 91% chance that will be enough to cure the cancer completely."
"And the catch?" Kinjou asked. Inui wouldn't be sharing if it were truly that easy.
"The cancer affects modified nerve cells. There's no sign the tumor has metastasized, but it's wrapped itself pretty well around one of the nerves here—" Inui tapped his collarbone "—Even with the best surgeon, you're going to have side effects from digging around in the nerves like that. Especially when the preference is to sacrifice more healthy tissue than risk missing any malignant cells. It would be difficult to hide that from you, and if we're sharing that, we figured it was time to share everything."
"Dad…Father…" Kinjou's head spun as he tried to take in all of the sudden announcements. A thousand questions sprung to mind: Why didn't you tell me sooner? When were you planning on finally sharing? How much longer do you have? What happens from here? It was all unexpected and overwhelming, and he didn't know where to start.
Kaidou's hand on his shoulder snapped him out of the spiral.
"Breathe," Kaidou ordered, and Kinjou tried to force the ragged sounds back into something resembling a steady pattern.